


Normal Again

by jacobhale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5383151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacobhale/pseuds/jacobhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles leaves Beacon Hills for New York City to begin to lead a life without supernatural beings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Normal Again

                “Derek,” the young boy sighed. “I can’t do this anymore. I-I love you, but I j-just can’t.”

                For the last three years, Stiles Stilinski had aided Derek Hale and his cause to protect Beacon Hills from the supernatural. From Derek’s socio- and psychopathic uncle, Jackson becoming a Kanima, the Alpha Pack and the Darach, the Nogitsune that almost took Stiles from him, and to Kate Argent and the Benefactor’s army of hitmen, Stiles was part of it all, ever since his best friend was bitten by an Alpha werewolf. But now it was time for it to be over.

                “Stiles,” Derek pleaded.

                “No,” Stiles interrupted. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is for me.”

                Derek’s bright green eyes now seemed to dim when Stiles looked into them; the light that once made them bright now gone. Stiles wiped away tears as they began to form at the edges of his eyes. The werewolf moved closer to the young man he had loved through all of it and felt his heart break more and more with every inch he removed between them. Derek loved Stiles more than anything this life could ever give him and that love was now slipping away.

                “Derek,” Stiles sighed. “I do love you, with everything that I have. But I can’t deal with this. The werewolves, the lizard people, killer Alphas, the dead pool, it’s just too much for me. I can’t even think about what I would do if I ever had to watch you die, and I almost did.”

                “I told you—“

                “No,” Stiles cut in, finding his strength. “You told me to go help Scott. I did. And the entire time, I didn’t know what I would do if I never saw you again. I almost lost you. And I don’t want to watch you die. It would kill me to watch that happen.”

                Derek stood, frozen to the ground, his body twitching ever so slightly in attempt to move closer to his love to comfort him. He knew that Stiles had made up his mind and that this time there was no changing it. Stiles wanted to leave and Derek had to let him. The supernatural was for the supernatural. For Scott and Kira and Lydia and himself, but not for a human like Stiles. He was out of his depth and there was no fixing that unless Stiles accepted the bite of an Alpha.

                “I love you,”  Stiles began to choke on his words, knowing that this would be the very last time he saw the love of his life and letting him go will be the hardest thing he would do in his lifetime. “But I have to go.”

                “I love you, too,” Derek breathed, barely able to speak.  He stared into Stiles’ chocolate eyes as long as he could, trying desperately to commit the way they looked to memory that he could keep forever.

                Stiles turned to walk away, tears streaming down his face. He took a deep breath and began to walk to his jeep that was already fully packed with his clothes and other necessities to help him survive his new adventure, one where his life wouldn’t forever be in danger, one where his loved ones wouldn’t be the center of some other worldly threat, one where he could just be Stiles Stilinksi, the 145-pound, pale and fragile bag of bones whose only line of defense was sarcasm and a baseball bat. It would be nice for him to reacquaint himself with that person once more.

*** _SIX MONTHS LATER***_

                “It’s freaking freezing here,” Stiles whined.

                New York was a new adventure compared to any place he had ever been. Here, traffic actually stopped for you, people were people, and he was just Stiles. He didn’t know any werewolves, banshees, kitsune, were-coyotes, were-jaguars, were- anything. He finally found a normal life. After leaving Beacon Hills, he found himself working at Starbucks. It wasn’t the best job, but it came with some normal coworkers and a normal boss and a normal pay which helped afford his normal apartment, his normal clothes that didn’t need replaced every other week after getting shredded in some way by a rogue beastie. Everything was perfect. To the young man, it was better than perfect. It was normal, but couldn’t help but feel something was missing.

                “Well,” laughed Jesse. “It is winter.”

                Stiles chuckled, “No, man. I’m used to winter being weather I need a thick sweater to venture outside. This, this is like mega-winter.”

                “So,” Jesse sighed. “We’ve worked together for a while now, and you haven’t really talked much about what things were like for you back home, wherever that is. You’re all mysterious about it.”

                Stiles sat perched on a picnic table outside of the Starbucks where he and Jesse worked. Stiles had made a few friends because of him and for that he was thankful. Starbucks was virtually the nerd capital for drinks, second only to Nintendo store a few blocks away and the comic book store a few more blocks away in the opposite direction.

                “Jesse,” Stiles sighed. “I don’t like to talk about it. You know that. It just brings back some bad memories. There’s a reason I left that place.”

                “And you don’t wanna share what that place is, Mister Stiles?” a chuckle came from behind the two men. It was Claire, a petite blonde with piercings that couldn’t be at all comfortable in this weather, her bright blue eyes shimmered against the white masses falling from the sky.

                “Nope,” Stiles laughed. “I left for a reason and I’d appreciate it if you’d let it go.”

                “Are you in the witness protection program?”

                “Yeah,” Stiles smiled. “Actually, Jesse, I am. And now that you know, I have to kill you both.”

                The trio roared with laughter as people walked by, not paying attention to them at all. That was one of the perks for Stiles. New York was so full of people who always walked and were in a rush to get from one place to another that they always ignored what was going on around them. They never had any intention of listening or eaves dropping; they didn’t care not one bit what a nineteen year old and his friends were talking about.

                “C’mon, guys,” Claire prompted. “Caleb and Gretchen are going to go pick up Simon and Sophia before rush hour hits full swing, we better snag a cab before we’re late.”

                “What time does the movie start?”

                “Jesse,” Claire sighed. “Does it matter? If we’re late there’s a dozen other films playing for us to watch.”

                Stiles hopped off of the picnic table and started walking down the slippery, white sidewalk, taking in the sights that he had seen every single day for the last six months. The McDonalds, the Disney Store, the Toys-R-Us, and multiple “souvenir” shops, which he learned were a dime a dozen here in New York City. After meeting Jesse, he was warned to stay away from them because they were some of the most expensive places to shop at and he was better off looking for things on Amazon or eBay.

                People hustled and bustled past the group as they stood at the curb flagging down a cab. Stiles still looked around, looking and taking in the view of everything near him and beyond. He was now slowly spinning as he looked up at the tall buildings and lost track of where his feet were taking him. He had wandered into the crowd of people. Once he noticed he had parted from his friends, he jumped and knocked over a gentleman in a nice suit with a briefcase.

                “Oh, my god!” Stiles exclaimed. “I am so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”

                He helped the man gather his things from the snow covered walkway and jumble it back into his briefcase.

                “Next time,” the man grumbled. “Watch where you’re going.”

                Stiles sighed as the man walked away, running his fingers through his hair as he did.

                _Same old Stiles,_ he thought.

                He spun around, looking for the cab his friends had finally flagged down. As his body spun, he noticed something in his line of vision. It was a blur as he searched briefly for his friends, but searched for it frantically. Stiles had no idea what it was, but it was familiar. Shrugging it off, he made his way to the taxi as his friends called him a klutz for the millionth time and that’s when he saw it once more. It was across the street. He saw a man in a black leather jacket and jet black hair, spiked up in the front. Haunting green eyes were staring his way.

                “Derek,” sighed Stiles, choking on the name he just barely spoke.

                Stiles ran in front of the cab and dodged cars here and there to make it to the other side of the traffic-filled city street.

                “Stiles!” Claire shouted.

                “Yo, dude,” called Jesse.

                Stiles continued to jump over cars until he made it to the opposing sidewalk from his friends and the cabbie who was getting frustrated that they couldn’t leave because time is money. The young man was once again spinning, only now it was more calculated. He wasn’t aimlessly looking in awe at things, he was searching for the man who was standing on the spot he was on now. He found the back of a leather jacketed man with dark black hair and walked quickly.

                “Derek?” Stiles asked as he reached out and placed his hand on the shoulder of the man who was not Derek Hale, but a mere stranger who was very confused. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

                Stiles looked around as quickly as he could, his friends yelling for him to hurry or he was going to be left behind.

                “Sorry,” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

                “What was that about?” Jesse asked.

                “Nothing,” Stiles said as he slid into his seat on Claire’s right in the back of the cab. “Just thought I saw someone I knew.”

                “Who?” asked Claire. “You seemed pretty eager to go talk to that fella. Did you think it was a past boyfriend or something?”

                “Actually, yes.” Stiles looked down at his thumbs. “I did.”

                “Oh,” Claire breathed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were gay.”

                “Dude,” Jesse huffed. “You’ve been alone for a year and you never told us you were gay. I could’ve—”

                “No,” Stiles argued. “I’m—I’m not—”

                “Stiles,” Claire placed her hand on Stiles’ knee. “We’re sorry, it’s none of our business.”

                “No,” Stiles grumbled. “I’m not gay, but I didn’t have a boyfriend before coming here. He was the only guy I have ever dated and the only one I have ever loved and the only one I ever will. A friend of mine once described him as ‘Stiles-sexual,’ thinking that he would never fall in love with another man for the rest of his days. And she said the same thing about me. And she was right. I’ve never felt that way about anybody in my life before, especially a dude. I know that if I were to ever be with a man for the rest of my life, it would be him.”

                Jesse leaned forward to peek around Claire, who was staring at Stiles in awe. Neither of them had heard a single thing about Stiles’ past beyond that he was from California where the weather was rarely below fifty degrees in the winter. This was something they both wanted from him, but didn’t think that he would be confessing his past in the back of a cab with an ex-boyfriend as the topic.

                “So,” Jesse stammered. “Uh, hmm. What happened to him?”

                “I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. “I told him I needed to have a normal life and I got in my jeep and left after I said I loved him.”

                “Did he love you back?” Claire asked.

                “He did,” Stiles’ breathing became heavier. “He loved me very much. He kept me safe. He made me whole. And with our differences weighing us down, it was best for me to leave.”

                “What differences?”

                “Erm,” Stiles knew he couldn’t divulge too much information, but he knew that this is what he was missing. A connection to people is what he has been looking for in the year he has been on the east coast, desperate for that normal feeling he once had before Beacon Hills had become a hub of supernatural activity. “He was part of a certain group that I couldn’t be part of unless I made a huge change in my life. One that would cause me to lose my family and most of my friends. A group that not many people could say they would want to live with once they knew the risks.”

                “Drugs are a bitch, dude.”

                “Jesse,” Claire snapped. “Don’t.”

                Stiles was staring into his palms, his eyes beginning to water.

                “You miss him.” Jesse said.

                Stiles nodded as he clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth. Every moment he spent talking about Derek and Beacon Hills was another moment he was torturing himself and that much closer to spilling the beans on his past.

                “What was his name?”

                “Derek.”

*** _SIX WEEKS LATER_ ***

                Stiles had spent the weeks that followed the taxi ride distancing himself from Jesse and Claire. The life he left behind was beginning to haunt him and it wasn’t something he could shrug off anymore. He tried to have his life away from were- beasts and creatures of darkness and succeeded. But now he was faced with the struggle that he might never see Derek again. He had planned on it being goodbye and then he would get tired of his life away from California and want to go back. He knew what went bump in the night and he chose to ignore it. Now, almost a year later, he was pretty sure that his mind was made up on never returning to Beacon Hills or more importantly, to Derek Hale.

                “Stiles,” a voice called. “You’re spilling milk everywhere!”

                Stiles jumped, spilling even more milk down his emerald Starbucks apron.

                “Dammit,” Stiles sighed. “I’m sorry. I got, uh, distracted.”

                “Well,” his manager said. “Clean it up now and go be distracted somewhere else.”

                “Sorry,” Stiles said. “It won’t happen again.”

                “Take five, Stilinski. You’ll feel better.”

                “Thanks,” nodded Stiles.

                Stiles had never had this many issues since he got hired. It took no time at all for him to learn all of the blends and the machine to make the drinks, but physically doing it became a challenge that he didn’t want to admit was difficult.

                Since arriving at work that morning, Stiles had spilled three drinks, a bag of coffee beans, and heated milk up to a temperature that wouldn’t allow the rest of the drink’s contents to blend properly. He was a wreck. He sat in the break room wiping down his work apron and his shoes before swapping them out for his spare set and got back to work. He didn’t have time to pity himself and let a life he no longer lived take control over the one that he was successfully leading.

                “Stiles,” called Dennis, the manager. “You’re on register.”

                Stiles meandered over to the order station and took his place behind the register, logging into the computer.

                “How may I help you today?”

                Stiles looked up from the screen and saw eyes of lime staring at him. The man continued to stare with his mouth open, looking for words to say, but finding none to speak. He stared into the deep brown that were Stiles’ eyes in awe at the sight before him.

                “Derek,” Stiles sighed.

                “Stiles,” whispered Derek.

                Stiles coughed to clear his throat, “What can I get for you today?”

                “Can we talk?”

                “I need you to order or leave.”

                Derek’s heart broke again at the words Stiles chose to use.

                “I’ll have a coffee,” Derek shrugged. “A large, black, plain coffee.”

                Stiles rolled his eyes and scribbled onto a Starbucks cup.

                “You can pick up your drink over there,” Stiles pointed to the right side of the shop. “I just got back from break, so you’ll have to wait an hour or so before I can go on my official break.”

                Derek walked slowly over to the pick-up counter and waited for his plain coffee. He didn’t know what he thought would happen were he to find Stiles and talk to him, let alone a year later. It hurt him to stand and wait for a sign that the only man he ever loved, and would ever love, didn’t want to talk to him as much as he wanted to talk to Stiles.

                “Plain coffee?” the barista called.

                Derek reached out to grab the cup from the barista and noticed that there was a name scribbled on it in black sharpie. It read, “Sour wolf.” Below that was a poorly drawn picture of a black wolf. He looked over to the register counter where Stiles stood taking a young hipster boy’s order. Stiles looked away from the computer screen for just a moment to look at Derek, who was already looking back. Together they shared a smile. And that smile was only the beginning of a new chapter of Stiles’ normal life.


	2. Wolf On the Ledge

                “What are you doing here?” Stiles asked as he took his place across from Derek at a corner table.

                Derek looked at the man sitting across from him, his eyes just as brown as they were the day he left Beacon Hills. He took in every inch of him, his heart thrumming faster and faster as he did.

                “Are you going to answer me?” Stiles questioned. “I don’t have a lot of time, you know.”

                Derek nodded.

                “Come home,” Derek sighed.

                Stiles stared deep into Derek’s eyes and felt himself swimming in bright green. Those two words had blasted the air out of him and he couldn’t breathe.

                “We all miss you, Stiles,” Derek continued. “I miss you.”

                Stiles chocked on the first gasp of air he found once it returned to his lungs. He loved Derek, and his friends, but this was him home now. He had spent months in New York City, exploring, learning and living. He had found what he was so desperately looking for; what he so most desired.

                “Derek,” Stiles gasped. “I-I can’t. I’m sorry.”

                “Why not?” Derek growled.

                “I told you why when I left,” Stiles fell back into his chair, wishing he could melt out of sight. “There’s no place for me in Beacon Hills. Not after everything that’s happened. I don’t belong there.”

                “Yes,” Derek argued. “You do.”

                Stiles looked away from Derek, the look on the man’s face was suffocating him with pleas to return. All around him customers walked by and sipped at their coffees. Each one that appeared reminded Stiles of how easy it was for him to disappear.

                “Derek,” Stiles coughed. “I’m a human. A fragile, killable human. Beacon Hills doesn’t belong to my kind any more than your kind belongs in a wolfsbane field. Since the Nemeton was activated, it has been the home of the supernatural. One day it will be overrun by them and humans will find out.”

                Derek scanned the coffee shop around him, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone who might be listening.

                “I love you,” Stiles admitted. Derek heard his heartbeat slow, the phrase calming him. “But I can’t.”

                “Then why don’t I come here?” Derek asked.

                Stiles shook his head. That would be against everything he was now, it would take away from his goal to live a normal life. Derek’s eyes started to glisten. It was breaking his heart to know that Stiles didn’t want him around anymore and that his presence would ruin his life. Everything they had been through was now over. This was the end of them.

                “Stilinski,” a man called. “Break’s long over. Get back to work.”

                Stiles waved at the man.

                “Derek,” Stiles sighed. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

                Stiles stood up and left the table, leaving Derek to stare at his coffee cup with the little black wolf doodled on the side and the word “Sourwolf” scrawled above. Stiles had tied the strings of his apron and turned back to see what Derek was doing. The table the two shared was now vacant, save for the coffee cup. He sighed. Part of him broke seeing the table empty.

                “Stiles,” called the manager. “You’re on register.”

                “Yes, sir.”

***

                Stiles left work that evening with his heart heavy. He had turned Derek down. He had turned the man he loved more than anything. He looked at his surroundings, expecting to see the tall, bright-eyed wolf waiting for him. His heart sank even further when he realized he was nowhere to be found. He looked around once more before he took off down the street.

                The night air was cold and blistery. Winter was coming to a close rather quickly, but tonight was one of the nights it decided to fight back. Stiles put his hands into his jacket pockets and pulled his arms tight to his body to fight for some warmth on his walk home. The more he walked, the more he thought about Beacon Hills and about Derek. He wandered down street after street and found himself standing in front of the train station. He stared up at the building before him in awe of how he got there.

                “Instinct,” Stiles scoffed.

                He was right no matter how much he wanted to dispute the fact. It was instinct that brought him here. Instinct led his entire life. He never really planned anything, all of it just happened by chance. From going into the woods the night Scott was bitten to saving Derek from drowning during the Kanima attack all the way to falling in love.

                Instinct.

                Stiles rolled his eyes and choked back the feeling of falling apart in front of the station. He turned and walked away into the night. He stopped at the crosswalk, watching as what traffic remained on this side of the city streamed along. Each passing car brought a new thought.

                What am I going to do?

                How could I have done this?

                What is wrong with me?

                Derek doesn’t deserve this.

                Each thought was beginning to drive him mad. He looked up from his stupor to find that traffic had stopped and several people were crossing the street. Stiles’ legs started moving slowly forward, carrying him across the street. Once he stepped on the sidewalk once again he froze. Down the block, there he was in his signature pose; hands in the jackets of his leather jacket, stance firm and unyielding, the scowl on his face stone solid.

                Instinct.

                Stiles began to run towards him. Derek was there, just half a block away. Tears began to fill Stiles’s eyes and streak down his face. He tried to blink them away by closing his eyes tight for just a moment and in that moment Derek was gone. Now standing where Derek stood, Stiles spun around looking everywhere he could up and down the streets surrounding him, up to the skies for any sign of his love. He was nowhere to be found.

                Instinct.

                Stiles collapsed to the ground. Tears finally consuming him for the first time in a long time.

***

                “Dude,” Jesse called. “Where have you been?”

                Stiles coughed and sniffed as he entered his apartment. Crying in frigid weather wasn’t the best idea in the world.

                “Jess,” Stiles breathed. “I forgot you were here.”

                “Yeah, dude,” Jesse laughed. “SpikeTV is having a Star Wars movie-thon at midnight. You’re just in time.”  
                “Great,” Stiles mumbled.

                “Erm,” Jesse hummed. “Are you okay? You seem a little off.”

                Stiles shrugged it off as a long and cold walk and took his place on the couch then propped his feet up on the small coffee table.

                “I hope it’s the original trilogy,” Stiles chuckled.

                “Do we ever watch the prequels?”

                Stiles never cared for the prequel trilogy. He always loved the classics. Long ago he tried getting Scott to join in on the fun, but he was always too busy with one thing or another. He once tried the same with Derek, but Derek wanted to watch them in order once he discovered that Star Wars started with part four. It drove him insane to watch as Derek enjoyed the first three and revealed he loved the effects better in those than in the original three. It was a debate for the ages. Everyone around them were constantly being asked to weigh in on the debate until finally, they locked them in Derek’s loft and told them that nobody cared and they had to sort things out for themselves. During that time there wasn’t much debate going on as much as hot, steamy sex.

                Stiles smiled as a tear fell from his eye. He loved Derek with all of his being. The lone thought of his name sent warmth throughout his entire body. The thought of his eyes, his smile, his laugh caused his body to vibrate with such intensity it was as though his entire being was trying to move on its own.

                The end credits rolled. Stiles had been distracted by thoughts of Beacon Hills, of Derek. He hadn’t noticed Jesse kept looking at him throughout the entire movie.

                “Dude,” Jesse sighed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

                “Yeah,” Stiles said once he blinked himself out of his day dream. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

                “If you need to talk--”

                Stiles broke down. Sobs erupted from his chest and echoed through the apartment. He couldn’t control it anymore. He hurt and it was his own fault.

***

                Derek sat perched on the top of the building, his legs dangling over the ledge. Staring out into the night, he heard it; it was the sound of grief. The sound echoed pain through his chest. Derek’s heart was breaking as Stiles broke down.

                He knew he shouldn’t have made himself known tonight, but he need to have one last look. Sitting upon the rooftop of the building in which Stiles lived, Derek listened as Stiles began to carefully, yet recklessly tell the tale of Beacon Hills.

                “ _I met him in the woods,_ ” Derek heard Stiles sob. “ _Few years ago, I went into the woods with my best friend Scott. We went looking for a body and he lost his inhaler._ ”

                Derek cracked the smallest of smiles when Jesse asked why and asthmatic would want to venture out into the night and go looking for a dead body. It brought it all back, fresh in his mind. They first met in the woods when Scott went searching for the inhaler he lost after he and Stiles went looking for a body—half a body, to be specific—in the middle of the night. Stiles was wearing a bulls-eye t-shirt, ironic only by the fact that he became a target after becoming a familiar member of Derek’s life. His brown eyes shimmered in the autumn sunlight, highlighted further by the fallen leaves glittering the forest floor. Derek loved his eyes. He got lost in them often enough.

                Little by little, Derek began to warm up to the teen. It was something he never thought could have happened. Derek had fallen in love one time before. And it ended with her death. Kate was a different story. She was a lustful encounter that also ended in death, only this time it was his entire family sans his uncle and his younger sister, Cora.

                Derek and Stiles were out one day for training with Allison and Scott. Allison was an expert with a bow and arrow, but she wanted to test her reflexes. The supernatural odd couple found themselves being pseudo-hunted by Allison and were ready to jump up from their hiding place to see which of the duo she found a bigger threat in the moment. Derek could smell the sexual desire on his hiding partner and it was intoxicating. Derek looked at Stiles, his breathing mildly erratic as he was being stared at when he wasn’t noticing. Those big brown eyes were a trap bigger than any other one he had ever fallen into, but those eyes were the best. Stiles leaned in towards Derek slowly and Derek inched forward as well. Stiles bridged the gap in a blink and connected lips with Derek.

                In his span of not paying attention, Derek also did not notice Scott hanging from a nearby tree. Allison called to everyone, asking them to come out and that this had to end. She looked up and around and found Scott directly above her holding his index finger to his mouth to keep her quiet and then used the same finger to point behind her. Allison turned slowly to find a bush with a hole at the bottom and crouched to see what was behind it. She looked up at Scott one more time, who was now making a kissing face. Bewildered, Allison looked under the bush to find Stiles and Derek locked in a passionate kiss.

                That was one of his favorite memories. Nobody was in real danger, they were just themselves that day. All of the memories with Stiles came flooding back all at once and brought Derek Hale to tears. How had things gone so wrong? Derek wondered more and more to himself how he could fix things. Hours ago his world crashed down once again. Stiles had made a small gesture that pointed towards a happier day, but the moment they sat down that hope had died away.

                The memories he had of Stiles were flashing through his mind the more he listened, finding a whole new perspective on their relationship. There was hope in Stiles’ smile earlier, but that hope was dashed once they sat down to talk. Hearing the boy speak now was heartbreaking.

                “ _I saw him that day,_ ” Stiles’ voice echoed through Derek’s head. “ _That’s why I ran into the street. And today he came into work. I was so shocked and happy to see him that I sent so many mixed signals. I told him to order something or leave, I wrote his nickname on the cup and did a doodle, then I smiled at him and finally when I talked to him, I shot him down._ ”

                Derek’s eyes continued to water.

                “ _Why?_ ” Jesse asked.

                “ _Because I’m a terrible person,_ ” coughed Stiles. “ _I love him, but I can’t deal with all the extra stuff._ ”

                Derek stared out into city’s skyline. He wasn’t Alpha anymore. He didn’t have a pack that he belonged to. Stiles chose to leave and he could, too. He could leave it all behind. For Stiles, he could try and be normal.


	3. Waiting for Superman

                “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

                It was now 5 o’clock in the morning and Jesse was getting ready to leave after hours of listening to Stiles talk about Beacon Hills. He had seen Stiles smile many times, but he had never quite lit up quite like he did when he told the stories of his adventures back home.

                “Yeah,” Stiles smiled through puffy, bloodshot eyes. “Thanks.”

                “I will see you tonight at work,” Jesse smiled. “Get some rest, man.”

                Stiles nodded as Jesse shut the door behind him. Stiles sprawled over the couch and let out a heavy sigh. He was finally doing it; he was finally letting people in. It may have only been Jesse, but it was a start.

                As he lay on the couch staring into space, he couldn’t help but think of what would have happened were he to have accepted Derek back into his life. Would it have made things more difficult for him to leave Beacon Hills behind? Would he have been able to live with a werewolf and pretend that the supernatural didn’t exist? Many other questions were now swimming through his mind that he couldn’t quite shake. The biggest question that remained was the most difficult to answer as he began his descent into sleep.

                _Why didn’t I bring him with me?_

***

                Stiles woke up at 3 p.m. He groaned as he hoisted himself from the couch and stumbled to the shower, the events of the day before now foggy. He could remember working and he remembered—

                “Derek.”

                Stiles stopped just short of his bathroom door, wondering where the wolf was now. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that it doesn’t matter anymore. He was now living in New York City, in his own apartment, living his own life and sadly, that no longer included Derek. Stiles felt himself hit the floor. He looked around his apartment and realized how empty it was. He didn’t have Derek or Scott or the rest of his friends from back home with him anymore. He didn’t have the constant need to be around people. He was simply Stiles. He wasn’t a boyfriend and he wasn’t part of a pack any longer.

                Stiles gathered himself and hurried to get ready for work and quickly began the trek to Starbucks. This was a normal day in the normal life of normal Stiles Stilinski. He was determined to make it to his normal job on time and make the best of it.

***

                Midnight struck faster than he thought possible. Now it was closing time at the coffee shop and he was heading home. He made it three blocks before and arm found its way around his shoulders and another entwined with his right arm.

                “Ladies,” Stiles smiled.

                “Stiles,” smiled Claire as she tugged on the man’s shoulders. “What are you doing?”

                Stiles chuckled, “Going home.”

                “Nope,” Gretchen said, gripping Stiles’ bicep with her free hand.

                “Jesse called us before work.”

                Stiles looked at the two of them in shock. What had Jesse told them?

                “No worries,” Gretchen said. “Jesse didn’t violate bro code, he just told us that you needed a night out. So, our orders are to take you home and get you dressed and we are going out.”

                “Where?” Stiles asked.

                “A new place,” said Claire.

                “Should I be afraid?”

                “Very,” joked Gretchen.

                They arrived at Stiles’ apartment and as he showered the smell of coffee beans off of himself, Claire and Gretchen rummaged through his clothing, looking for anything that would make him look extra appealing. They eventually settled on a pair of black jeans that made Stiles’ rear end pop and a shirt that would show off his body, but not make him look too skinny (not that they had much room to avoid that). Stiles emerged from the shower and quickly found clothing laid out for him. He got dressed as fast as he could and was rushed out of the apartment.

                “Don’t I get to brush my teeth?” he protested.

                “Here’s a mint,” Gretchen tossed a little white disk with green flecks into his mouth.

                “This tastes awful,” he said, rolling the mint around with his tongue.

                “Should have thought of that before wanting to brush your teeth.”

                “Got something against brushing teeth, Gretch?” Stiles asked. Gretchen was one of the most cleanly people he had ever met in his entire life. She was never afraid of chipping a nail or getting down and dirty, but the girl cleaned up spectacularly. She usually left her long golden locks fall over her shoulders, but on this night, she had her hair put up in a braided up ‘do. The girl always looked like a supermodel in terms of presentation. She reminded him of Lydia on so many occasions, whereas Claire was always in something comfortable, yet fashionable.

                Gretchen grunted as she shoved Stiles into the back of a cab and told the driver where to go as she climbed in after Claire. When they pulled up to the address, Clair paid the cabbie and hopped out.

                “So where is this place?” asked Stiles.

                Claire and Gretchen smiled and both pointed upwards. From the street it was barely noticeable, but once you saw it, you couldn’t not see the flashing lights coming from the top of the building. Stiles looked apprehensively at the building. There didn’t seem to be any activity within this building, so how were they going to get to the top? Claire seemed to have inside information as she walked up to the door and swiped a key card.

                “Whoa,” Stiles held up his hands. “Is this illegal?”

                Claire explained that this was an invite only party and that the key card she held would only admit four people.

                “Who’s number four?”

                “I am number four,” Jesse huffed as he jogged to the door. “Please tell me that this place has an elevator because I can’t do much more running.”

                Claire laughed and waved the three of them inside and pulled the door shut. They took the red elevator to the top floor and showed the key card to the buff man waiting for them when they emerged. He eyed each of them up cautiously and counted them after looking at their card. He motioned them over to another buff man who waved them with a handheld metal detector. Once they received the all clear, they walked through a set of doors and out onto the roof.

                It was one of the most miraculous things Stiles had ever seen. The rooftop of this building was massive. Bigger than Derek’s loft by about eight times. There were lights situated all along the edge of the rooftop, plants were situated here and there along the edge as well and what appeared to be fencing to keep people from falling off. There were seating areas spread throughout the area and made the place look classier than your average rooftop. The music thrummed and vibrated Stiles’ body as he looked over the hundreds of bodies dancing and mingling.

                “Why are we here?” Stiles asked Claire.

                “I know the guy who owns this place and he gave me this card and instructions if I ever wanted to use it.”

                “Well,” Jesse scoffed humorously. “That was awfully nice of him. What do you have to do in return?”

                “Not tell his wife about his affair with the male nanny,” Claire laughed.

                “Oh,” Jesse went red.

                “How does she not know?” Gretchen asked.

                “Because,” Claire snickered. “She’s too busy worrying about if her husband will catch her sleeping with the man-nanny to connect the dots.”

                “Dude’s got game,” said Stiles. “So why are we here?”

                “Jesse said you were having a rough go,” Claire shrugged. “So I figured tonight was as good of a night as any to bring you out and let you have some fun.”

                Claire stepped out on the dance floor with her friends in tow. The beat of the new song that began to play now was more upbeat than the last. Claire grabbed at Stiles and started bumping and jumping to the beat and Stiles slowly followed suit. Stiles was released from Claire’s grip as she turned to dance with Jesse. Gretchen jumped in to keep Stiles from dancing alone, which she firmly believed he would have had no problem with. The quartet found themselves dancing along for the next hour until Gretchen’s hair bounced out of her up ‘do and Claire went to get drinks. Jesse found a pretty red head to dance with, leaving Stiles to dance by himself. If Gretchen had bet money on Stiles being comfortable alone, she would have been right.

                Stiles bobbed up and down the dance floor, cutting through the crowd alone. Many others tried to dance with him, but he was bouncing around too much to notice. He made eye contact with his friends who waved him over.

                “Why are you guys just drinking?” he asked.

                “Free booze, Stiles,” Jesse laughed before taking a deep gulp from his plastic cup. “You don’t seem to need any to loosen up.”

                Stiles shrugged. He loved alcohol, but tonight probably wasn’t the best time for him to drink. He had a rough couple of days with Derek visiting and he didn’t feel like having a drunken break down at this place.

                “Stiles,” Claire said into her drink. “Hottie on your nine.”

                Stiles looked to his left. There stood a man not much taller than himself, he had blond hair and icy blue eyes that had to have been contact lenses. His build was easily twice the size of Stiles’. He raised his glass to Stiles and smiled.

                “Go dance with him,” Gretchen urged.

                “N-n-no,” Stiles stuttered, looking from his friends to the man.

                Stiles had never been with a man other than Derek. He never really felt attracted to any other guy. He could admire a good looking man, but until Derek, he never realized he could be attracted to men. As his friends argued that he should go dance with the stranger at the bar, he thought about all the times he should have done just this. He should have let people in sooner, he should have gone out dancing with strangers. His ‘should have’ list could probably go on and on, but now was the time for him to act or fall back into his routine of getting up and going to work. The time is now.

                Stiles shrugged off any insecurities he had and made his way over to the bar. His eyes darted every which way they could without falling out of his head. The closer he got, the more nervous he got. Did he even find this guy attractive?

                “I’m Stiles,” he said as he introduced himself.

                “Kevin,” the man replied, smiling. “Would you like a drink?”

                “No, thank you,” Stiles voiced quickly. “Not really in a drink kind of mood. Uhm, would you like to dance?”

                “I’m not really in a dance mood,” Kevin said. “Would you like to get out of here and go back to my place?”

                _Whoa,_ thought Stiles. _Too much, too fast._

                “I’m good,” Stiles coughed.

                “See, ladies?” Kevin called out. “This pup doesn’t have a pair to play with.”

                Before Stiles could form a response, a tall figure slid in between him and Kevin, blocking Stiles from resorting to punching the man.

                “What do you say you and I go dance?”

                Stiles looked up at the man in front of him. He had bright green eyes and sandy brown hair. His jaw looked like it had been chiseled by the gods themselves and his smile was plucked from the stars. Stiles barely had a moment to register what was going on before the man wheeled him off to the dance floor and took his waist and left hand and started to dance to the slow song that was now playing.

                “Wyatt,” the man said.

                “Stiles,” he replied. “You know that jack wagon?”

                “He comes here every now and again,” Wyatt answered. “He scopes the place out for the youngest, most eligible bachelor he can find. Sadly, tonight he chose you.”

                “Lucky me.”

                “Well,” Wyatt laughed. “Depending on how you look at it, lucky me. Where are you from?”

                “California,” Stiles said while he looked for his friends, which were spotted rooted on the spot by the bar watching him.

                “Oh, I see.”

                “Yepp,” Stiles didn’t know whether or not to keep dancing or to try and get away.

                “If you want to go, feel free,” Wyatt took a step back and motioned to his left.

                Stiles looked Wyatt up and down. He was dressed nicely, but not too nicely for a place like this. He made eye contact with his friends for a brief second before they turned their backs to him. Stiles let out a sigh of slight frustration and stepped toward Wyatt and took his hand once again. After all, this might be the only night he felt brave enough without alcohol to dance with a complete stranger.

                “So what do you do?”

                “I work in a bank,” Wyatt laughed.

                “What’s so funny?”

                “What’s funny is that I work in a bank and everyone else here probably work for Starbucks or McDonald’s.” Wyatt responded.

                “Starbucks isn’t such a bad place to work,” Stiles chuckled.

                Wyatt apologized for misspeaking, but Stiles assured him that it was okay. The tempo of the music began to change and the two found themselves dancing for an uninterrupted hour.

                “What brings you to New York, Mister West Coast?”

                “Oh, you know,” Stiles laughed, but at his following words, his tone became more somber. “Just waiting for Superman.”

                Stiles looked around awkwardly, noticing that the party was over save for Gretchen, Jesse and Claire standing at the bar chugging the last of their drinks.

                “Oh,” Wyatt said in awe. “I see. Let me know if you see him.”

                “Sure thing,” Stiles chuckled. “I guess that means I’ll see you around?”

                “I think it does,” Wyatt smiled as he inched closer to Stiles before leaning in. Their lips connected and Stiles swears his eyes rolled beyond the back of his head. His body went just limp enough for him to have made Wyatt notice.

                “Good night, Stiles.”

                The smile on his face didn’t fade until he got home. He walked up to his apartment door and unlocked it. The entire night played through his mind on a loop, each time a chunk of the night disappeared until only the kiss remained in his mind before going to sleep. This night was one that he would remember for a long time. He was right when he thought that a new chapter of his normal life was going to start once he saw Derek. Tonight was just the distraction he needed.


	4. The View

                It was 5 a.m. and Derek was now walking down 7th Avenue. The night air was cold with signs that temperatures would soon begin to climb. He kept his eyes focused on the ground in front of him. The streets were much less crowded this morning. New Yorkers were just laying down for bed after a night of partying or just getting out of bed to start their morning routine. As Derek looked around the city, it felt as hollow as he feels now.

                Derek listened to Stiles and Jesse talk for the last few hours and it had left him broken. Listening to Stiles tell the heavily edited stories of Beacon Hills made his heart sing. He knew that all of those adventures had meant a lot to him, but never did he know that even the most terrifying events were the greatest moments of his life. But none of those things mattered now. Now, Derek was just another man walking through New York City, alone, wishing to be better than he was before.

                He found himself standing in Times Square. He was stopped at a traffic light and looked up. This was a big place, easy to get lost in if you weren’t careful.

                _I guess that’s why he chose it,_ thought Derek.

                This city was a big place. It was one of two cities in the country that were well known for taking in lost souls looking for a new beginning. That’s when the thought finally hit him. Stiles wasn’t the only one who had chosen this beautiful concrete jungle for refuge and solace. Derek had, too.

                Many years ago, his family was murdered in a house fire. The only survivors of the horrific event aside from himself were his older sister Laura, who would become the new Alpha of the recently decimated Hale Pack, his uncle, Peter Hale, who became a burn victim and comatose, and his younger sister Cora, although he and Laura believed he had died in the fire. After the fire, he and Laura disappeared from Beacon Hills to put the past behind them. Eventually they were drawn back to their home town, but with disastrous results.

                Derek let out a small sigh at the memory of leaving home for this place. He groaned at the memory of Stiles telling him that he would be leaving Beacon Hills and him behind for a new adventure that he would take on alone.

                He loved Stiles, that much was clear. But Stiles wanted normal. Derek knew that it was time to step down from trying to be Superman and try being Clark Kent for once.

***

                Derek started by visiting his old apartment. He hadn’t been there in years. He wondered if it had been broken into or simply left to collect dust, but once he arrived, he found that the doorway was secure. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. He took in the view of the high ceilings and covered furniture, the windows were large, expanding from the ceiling to the floor, and eliminated much need for lights during the daytime.

                Derek pulled the curtains back to let the light in. He took in the view before him. He remembered his loft back in Beacon Hills and all of the times that he and Stiles stood  by the large windows and stared out into the night, watched the sun set or the marvelous date nights they shared and the songs they danced to in the light of the full moon. He missed those moments and would do anything to get them back.

***

                Derek spent the day cleaning the apartment and turning it back into a livable environment. He was now sitting at a table in Time Square all by himself. Couples were everywhere, roaming in the city light. They were holding hands, kissing passionately and some were dancing to the music coming from the small band that was playing. Derek tried as hard as he could to avert his gaze, but everywhere he looked, there were couples.

                Derek sighed. He attempted to put himself in the mindset of a lonely person wandering around a bustling city, but to very little success. Once upon a time, he was that person wishing to get lost in the millions of people, but now he was a different person than he was back then. He had learned much since returning home and learning what it’s like to be around people again.

                It was nearing midnight and Derek turned to look down the street.

                _It’s almost time,_ he thought. _Any minute now he will come strolling down the street and I will approach him._

                The amount of people roaming around were very few and Derek could see right down to the Starbucks where Stiles worked. Derek’s stomach was twisting into knots. He was unbelievable nervous about the events to come. Would Stiles reject him like he did before? Would he accept him and his willingness to change and let him be part of his normal life? Derek took a deep breath. It was time. He set off down the sidewalk towards his destination.

                Starbucks was in view now and his stomach turned over when he saw Stiles. He was filled with joy and anxiety. His heartbeat quickened along with his steps. Stiles was a block away. Derek stopped in his tracks when he saw two woman flank his target.

                _Shit._

                Derek dodged the trio and made his way down an alleyway. He watched as they walked past. Allowing them some distance, Derek followed. He heard them speaking, they were talking about going out to a party. Derek’s heart sank when he heard Stiles’ lack of protest.

                He followed them from Times Square down empty streets and a back alley that even he didn’t feel comfortable travelling down. They arrived at Stiles’ apartment building and spent very little time getting him ready. They exited the building and Derek watched as they entered a taxi cab and took off into the night.

                Derek’s attempts to follow the cab were almost for nothing. He couldn’t catch Stiles’ scent. Was something different about Stiles that his scent had changed so much in such a short time? True, he was surrounded by a lot of new people and was in a new city, but Stiles was still Stiles. He couldn’t have changed that much in so little time. Derek circled back to the apartment and caught the scent nearby and there it was. A trail for him to follow.

***

                Derek surveyed the party from below. He heard the music bumping and the people moving around above. He looked around, taking in the buildings that were surrounding him. He saw a fire escape on the side of the building across the street and jumped to reach it. He looked down into the street to ensure he would not be seen, he climbed the fire escape. He made it to the top with ease. Once there, he looked over at the party that was raging across the street. Derek wondered what kind of person would throw a rooftop party and not be afraid of getting caught. There were easily two hundred people dancing and drinking and having a good time. He watched for hours as the man he loved danced around, flailing his limbs in directions he was lucky nobody was standing in. He loved the way Stiles didn’t care, how he had a good time no matter what. But then it happened.

                Derek tried to focus his hearing on the gentleman on the other side of the roof top. The music was loud and the crowd just as loud. After closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he was able to focus a little better. He didn’t catch much, but he didn’t like what the man was saying to his friends. A roar escaped Derek as Stiles approached the man. He wanted to jump to the building and stop him, but that would have proved difficult without being exposed. His only choice was to growl from afar.

                Derek watched as the man and his friends laughed, causing Derek to growl even more, leaving him fully shifted on the roof of a random building in New York City. His eyes locked on to the teen and gazed in horror as another man stepped in and took Stiles to the dance floor. Time began to pass by slowly, dragging on and on like an endless road with nothing but pavement to guide the way. He felt himself fading away the more Stiles danced with the stranger. 

Before he knew it, they parted, but not before the man kissed Stiles goodnight. Derek didn’t growl. He didn’t feel rage or anger, he just felt broken. He turned away from the view of the rooftop party and let out a heavy sigh.


	5. Stiles Falls Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out. A lot has been going on in my life and I just haven't been in the mood to write. I apologize it is so short, but there is definitely more to come!

                Stiles’ work day was long and boring. People had hardly entered the shop all afternoon. He looked up at the clock, hoping that his shift would come to a quick end. His mind kept wandering to other things. Star Wars, Derek, video games, Wyatt, and Beacon Hills. Trying his hardest, Stiles attempted to focus on one thing.

                “Wyatt,” Stiles choked.

                “Hey, Stiles.”

                Wyatt was standing in front of him with a smile on his face. He was really there.

                “What are you doing here?”

                “Well,” Wyatt laughed. “I’m here for coffee and possibly for the opportunity to see you.”

                Stiles grinned from ear to ear. Several moments passed before he shook it off as Wyatt became concerned that he was okay. Stiles put in his coffee order and told Wyatt he would be done with work in half an hour and they could see each other then.

                “I’ll see you then,” Wyatt smiled.

                The last thirty minutes of the shift were the absolute longest of Stiles’ life. When the time was up, he hurried out the door. Upon stepping out of Starbucks, he slipped a little. A large hand caught his hand and an arm cradled his torso.

                “Thanks,” Stiles said.

                He looked up into the face of the man who had caught him. Those bright green eyes pierced his own chocolate brown.

                “Derek,” Stiles stared in awe that quickly turned into rage. “What the hell are you doing? Are you seriously stalking me? What is your problem? I told you it was over and I don’t quite know how to explain it to you better than I already have!”

                Stiles’ shouting caught the attention of many passersby, including Wyatt.

                “Is there a problem, Stiles?” asked Wyatt.

                Stiles swung hard, landing a solid punch to Derek’s face.

                “Not anymore,” he grunted.

                Derek spun around and looked at Stiles, his eyes flashing in the process.

                “Dude,” Wyatt gaped. “What the hell?”

                “Let’s go,” Stiles said, grabbing Wyatt’s hand and spinning quickly on his heels. He started to run only to notice that Wyatt wasn’t next to him. He tried to slow and turn around, but he tripped over his own feet and tumbled to the ground. The last thing he saw was a pair of glowing eyes closing in on him before the deafening crack he heard and the darkness overtook his vision.


	6. Funeral

                The funeral was sad. But then again, they always are. Groups of people always show up, attempt to say nice things about those that have passed away and try to immortalize the loved one’s life as it was remembered. Derek was never a fan of funerals.

                The first funeral he ever attended was that of his Grandpa Victor Hale. He was hunting Omegas and offering them sanctuary, but was caught up in a turf war between the Omegas and Hunters. A silver bullet later and the Hale family had to plan the first in a long line of funerals. But this time it wasn’t a family member that was gone. This time it was someone else.

                Derek was kneeling at the headstone, the fresh upturned earth had been replaced to cover the casket. He ran his fingers over the engraving.

                _S-T-I-L-I-N-S-K-I_

                He felt his heart sink. The person buried just feet below him wasn’t just a person. She had a name.

                “I’m so sorry for your loss,” said a female voice.

                Derek looked up at his mother talking to a man with a face frozen solid looking at the stone where he was standing. He then turned back to look at the grave marker.

                “How’s your son doing?”

                “He’s doing as well as any child who just lost his mother, Talia.”

                “I’m sorry,” Talia apologized. “I didn’t mean it like that, John. You know what I meant.”

                “I know,” he sighed, tears filling his eyes. “He shouldn’t have to deal with this. He’s only a boy.”

                “You shouldn’t have to deal with it either.”

                At 16, Derek felt heartbroken for a family he didn’t know and might not have any further contact with. The man his mother spoke to was a cop who mourned the loss of the wife he loved so much and the mother to his son. Derek stayed focused on their voices as he looked away from the letters he retraced several times. He couldn’t put his finger on why the name was clinging to his mind. He looked around the cemetery for the little boy his mother and the boy’s father spoke of. Sitting under a willow tree at the edge of the cemetery sat the boy.

                “Hi,” said Derek as he slowly approached the boy.

                The boy looked up at the teen. His large brown eyes seemed hollow when typically they were filled with light and excitement. They stared at each other for minutes in silence before Derek spoke again.

                “Is that your dad?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

                The boy nodded.

                “I’m Derek.”

                “Stiles.”

                Derek looked confused and Stiles could tell.

                “It’s a nickname,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “People seem to have issues with my first name so my mother gave me a nickname.”

                Derek’s heart broke even more.

                “I’m sorry for your loss.”

                “Everyone is,” Stiles shot. “But who cares. Being sorry won’t bring my mom back.”

                The teen looked behind him to find his mother and Stiles’ father looking towards them, whispering. Derek turned back to the boy sitting before him, but listened in on their parents.

                “ _Has anyone tried talking to him?_ ”

                “ _No,_ ” said John. “ _Stiles watched the burial and then went to sit under that tree. Your kid is the only one to approach him_ ”

                “ _Well,_ ” said Talia. “ _Derek is the sweetest of my children. The other two have a more rough streak to them. I’m not surprised that Derek is trying to connect with your boy. He’s got a big heart._ ”

                Derek sighed. He didn’t know how big of a heart he really had. He knew the wolf in him could connect with others instantly, but his normal, human self wasn’t that great with communication.

                “I know this doesn’t make anything better,” he began. “But I really am sorry for your loss. It must be hard to lose your mother.”

                Stiles began to sob. Derek froze on the spot, listening for movement behind him. But no sound came. He was on his own with a ten year old boy whose mother died. He stepped forward and knelt down, placing a hand on the boys shoulder in attempt to comfort him. Derek about jumped back when Stiles leapt towards him. Talia and John stared in shock when they saw small, skinny Stiles wrap his arms around the teen and begin to cry even harder. Derek’s eyes widened at the grip the boy had on him. Derek felt like a balloon was filling his throat; it was difficult to speak. Instead of words, he returned the embrace and tears began to fill his eyes.

                He felt for the boy more than ever once his own mother passed on, but he didn’t know he could relate to him. Talia noticed something in Derek that he, himself, didn’t and she removed the memory of Claudia’s funeral from her son. She believed it would be better if the first memory they had of each other wasn’t so sad.

                A short while later, Derek’s family, minus his sisters Laura and Cora, and his Uncle Peter, perished in a fire set by Kate Argent. And Derek would never get that memory back.

                Now, he was sitting in a hospital waiting room, waiting for any information on Stiles. They rushed him to the Emergency Room. Wyatt sat on the other side of the room, eyeing up Derek. Derek took a deep sigh and looked back.

                “What?”

                “Who are you?”

                “None of your concern,” Derek growled.

                “Probably true,” Wyatt replied. “But your presence caused all of this. You realize that don’t you?”

                He wasn’t wrong. Derek knew that all of this was his fault.

                Derek had spent most of the day contemplating his future with Stiles. He thought about all the times Stiles had almost died or had been seriously hurt because of the monsters in his own world that a mortal boy should never have a part in to begin with.

                _I should have just taken off,_ Derek thought. _Then none of this would have happened. I should have just left and went back home like I planned, but I didn’t. And now Stiles is here and it’s all my fault._

                Derek stood from his seat. Wyatt asked where he was going and Derek just growled.


	7. My Favorite Memory and Biggest Heartbreak

                The funeral was sad. But then again, they always are. Groups of people always show up, attempt to say nice things about those that have passed away and try to immortalize the loved one’s life as it was remembered. Derek was never a fan of funerals.

                The first funeral he ever attended was that of his Grandpa Victor Hale. He was hunting Omegas and offering them sanctuary, but was caught up in a turf war between the Omegas and Hunters. A silver bullet later and the Hale family had to plan the first in a long line of funerals. But this time it wasn’t a family member that was gone. This time it was someone else.

                Derek was kneeling at the headstone, the fresh upturned earth had been replaced to cover the casket. He ran his fingers over the engraving.

                _What is he doing?_ I thought as I looked on at the teen boy running his fingers along the headstone. I stared at him until he started looking around. I remember that I curled up into a ball and hid my face. I peeked up from his arms and saw the boy walking towards him.

                “Hi,” said the boy as he approached slowly.

                I looked up, but no words would come out of my mouth. I was too scared to speak.

                “Is that your dad?”

                I nodded.

                “I’m Derek.”

                “Stiles,” I replied. He took a mental sigh of relief that I could speak and I wasn’t going to be mute. Looking up I saw a face full of confusion. I wiped his tears away and continued, “It’s a nickname. People seem to have issues with my first name so my mother gave me a nickname.”

                “I’m sorry for your loss.”

                “Everyone is,” I snapped. “But who cares. Being sorry won’t bring my mom back.”

                The look on Derek’s face pretty much said it all. He really did hurt for me; with me.

                “I know this doesn’t make anything better, but I really am sorry for your loss. It must be hard to lose your mother.”

                All I could do was cry and bury my face into my arms once more.

                _She’s gone,_ I thought. Even my mind was sobbing.

Pressure met my left shoulder; a hand had been placed there by Derek. In a burst of outward emotion, I flung myself forward at Derek and wrapped my arms around his neck and continued to sob. Derek slowly wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. Tears began to fall from Derek’s eyes as well. I heard him sniffle. And that’s how we stayed for a long time.

                “Thank you,” I said, sniffing.

                “Your welcome,” Derek smiled.

                Talia looked at her son and then looked at me. I was in a little better of a mood since Derek and I had our little chat. She looked back to her son and her warm smile quickly turned cold and furious. She quickly looked at my dad. He was busy unlocking the car to notice that Derek’s eyes were the most brilliant blue I had ever seen in my entire life. Talia looked at me, hard and cold.

                “Well,” Talia rushed. “We should probably get going. Keep in touch, John. See you later, Stiles.”

                Derek and I said goodbye and Talia pushed her son to the car. And that was the last time we saw each other until the Hale funeral.

                “Hey,” I said, putting his hand on Derek’s shoulder.

                Derek shrugged it off.  I flinched.

                “I’m sorry,” I said. “I-I just-just wanted to say that-that I’m sorry.”

                Derek was no longer the warm, caring man he was in the past. That person went up in flames along with his family.

***

                “This is private property!”

                I brushed my hair with my hand, at a loss for words. The aggressive man before me was unrecognizable from the Derek Hale that I had met when I was ten years old. I tried to avoid all eye contact with him as much as possible. And for the most part, it worked. He gave Scott back his inhaler and left. Win for me.

                My life became so engulfed in Derek Hale’s life that eventually, as they say, one thing led to another. And Derek and I were no longer just Derek and I. We became an us, and that us was the most amazing thing I’ve ever been a part of.

                I can still remember the day we first kissed.

                Things were great in Beacon Hills. Monster activity was at an absolute zero and as we always did, we prepared for the worst. Allison wanted to test her skills. Scott, Derek and I made our way to the Beacon Hills Preserve and parked together. We dispersed across the forest and found different areas to hide and conceal ourselves in. Just my luck, I found the one hiding place in the whole forest that was already taken by the great and powerful Sour Wolf. He looked at me with the Sheldon Cooper “You’re in my spot” look and I knew I was in trouble.

                I heard a twig snap and I dropped down as quickly and quietly as possible. The bush where Derek and I hid was very leafy and overgrown. The bush made a kind of arch over us and we hid in silence looking around for what made the noise. Minutes passed and then some more and then a few more. Leaves rustled and we saw a pair of legs make their way toward us. I started breathing heavy with anticipation. Derek clapped his hand to my mouth and glared at me. I could smell him and I was feeling things I wished I wouldn’t have at the time. But he looked into my eyes and then I watched his stone face soften. His hard expression faded away and his hand slid from my mouth. His breath was hitting my face and I started breathing even harder. I inched closer to him ever so slightly. My heart was pounding harder than ever and it about burst from my chest when he began to inch forward as well. We never heart Scott slip from his perch in a tree and Allison spin around. His lips were like a spark igniting in me something I had never known existed. I felt my entire being fall away. He pulled me in closer and I grabbed at the back of his neck, allowing myself to be pulled in. I’ve never seen or experienced passion like that first kiss.

                Every day being with Derek was like that first kiss. We were electric; we were fire; we were strong. But I knew that one day I would have to make a choice. And that choice found me leaving Beacon Hills. Once upon a time, I figured that I would be offered the bite and turned into a werewolf. We would be able to live for a very long time in bliss. But now, that dream is just a dream.      

                I love Derek Hale.

                I do.

                But it was only just a dream.

                Now, in reality, I’m lying a hospital bed, trapped in my own mind.

                And I’ll never be able to tell him that I love him one last time.


	8. In My Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so long. I tried to shorten it the best I could, however it just didn't feel right doing it any other way. I also apologize for any absence on my part in the immediate future. I have just moved to Pittsburgh and am still adjusting. Feel free to comment on any of the chapters!

                Stiles slowly opened his eyes, fluttering them rapidly as he attempted to adjust to the light. Derek was sitting in the chair by the window in the corner of the room.

                “Derek,” Stiles breathed.

                Stiles searched the room for others, surely there would be more than just him.

                “Wyatt.”

                Stiles wondered why and how they were both there, but couldn’t muster the strength to ask.

                “Shh,” Derek insisted. “You need to be quiet. I’ll go get the nurse.”

                “No,” Wyatt argued. “I’ll go get the nurse.”

                Stiles memory came flooding into his mind’s eye. Derek, Wyatt, a miscalculated step and a crack, then darkness. The two men arguing grew louder until a nurse appeared.

                “You both need to quiet down before I kick you both out!”

                “Please,” Stiles pleased. “Out.”

                “What?” asked Wyatt and Derek.

                “Get out,” Stiles grunted as coherently as possible.

                The nurse shooed the men out, both with blank, shocked expressions on their faces. She returned to Stiles’ bedside and started checking his pulse. By this time, Stiles had almost fully woken up, with slight discomfort in his back and a large throbbing in his head.

                “Cute fellas,” the nurse said, her Brooklyn accent hovering within his ears.

                “Yeah,” Stiles chuckled slightly. He had two attractive guys watching over him.

                “Well,” the nurse smiled. “Your pulse is normal. We will get the doctor in to see you as soon as he can. Just relax and I’ll get you something for the pain, Mr. Hale.”

                “Thanks,” Stiles grumbled.

                The door closed and Stiles eyes snapped open, searing from the light pouring into his pupils.

                _Did she just say ‘Mr. Hale’?_

***

                Derek sat in the hospital hallway, his legs bent and his arms rested on his knees. His breaths were long and shaky. His mind kept racing from one thing to the next, from the moment he met Stiles, to their first kiss, to the day he left Beacon Hills. His heart broke thinking about the man he loved, unconscious and motionless in the hospital bed as they performed test after test on him to determine the severity of his condition.

                Derek took a deep breath and stood up. He peered down the hall towards the elevator and then back to the waiting room where another man sat, waiting for answers. Turning slowly, Derek began walking towards the elevator when he heard a woman call to him.

                “Mr. Hale?”

                Derek turned and came face to face with a nurse.

                “Yes,” Derek replied.

                “I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Stilinski will be taken to a private room shortly,” the nurse stared into Derek’s eyes. “Have you contacted your family?”

                Derek froze. Upon arrival to the hospital, Derek told the staff that Stiles was his brother and rather badly pronounced his proper first name. After spelling the last name, he explained that they had different dads. Derek was putting all of the hospital bills on his credit card and they couldn’t really argue with that after he positively identified Stiles.

                “They haven’t answered,” Derek lied. He has been too wracked with guilt to actually make the call. “I was just heading out to call again. Please let me know as soon as he’s all settled into his new room.

***

                Stiles sat up in his bed as the nurse placed food in front of him. He had been awake for twelve hours and had spent the first half of that time flipping through the channels on the hospital television looking for anything to watch through the morning. It was just before 5:30pm and he began to wonder if anyone was going to come visit.

                “Eat ya jello.”

                The nurses that have come into the room to care for him were few, but Stiles enjoyed each and every one of them. They each urged him to eat a different part of his meal. This nurse was always barking at him to eat his jello. Her name was Yalonda and she was a short, squat, black woman with her hair pulled into a tight bun.

                “I’ll be back later, Mr. Hale,” she continued as Stiles started to shovel his bland food into his mouth. He choked on the bite immediately following the “Mr. Hale” portion of her sentence. “Eat up and—Why ya chokin’? Ain’t ya neva ate before?”

                She patted him on the back and rolled her eyes.

                “What did you call me?” he asked.

                “By ya name,” she answered. “Is that not you?”

                Stiles paused, not sure how to answer. He knew his name, but the hardest part was knowing why. The nurse glared at him, waiting for the answer.

                “Who checked me in?”

                “Ya husband,” she sighed. “And boy, he foin as hell! All tall and rough like. Like he was built for a good time.”

                Stiles stared at her at a loss for words. She told him to take a break and breathe before eating the rest of his food. Stiles head slammed into his pillow in frustration.

                _What the hell is going on?_ he thought.

***

                “I’m taking the next flight out.”

                Derek nodded and proceeded to inform the man he was speaking to that he would pick him up from the airport himself and get him to the hospital.

                “I’ll see you later, Mr. Stilinski.”

                Derek hung up the phone and he took a deep sigh. Stiles was comatose according to the two doctors that spoke to him. They were unsure as to how long this state would last and that broke Derek’s heart. It broke even more when he had to tell Stiles’ father about his condition. He began to wander the halls of the hospital when he ran into Wyatt at the nurse’s station.

                “I want to see Stiles Stilinski,” he said, leaning on the counter. “He’s a patient here.”

                “I’m sorry, sir,” said the nurse. “There is only one patient here named ‘Stilinski’ in this hospital and his first name is not ‘Stiles.’”

                “That’s the name he gave me,” Wyatt pleaded. “Please let me see him.”

                “Sir,” the nurse continued. “Nobody is allowed to visit unless they can give the correct name. Also, it is listed that only family are allowed Mr. Stilinski.”

                Wyatt smacked the counter in frustration.

                “He can go in,” Derek said to the nurse.

                Wyatt turned and frustration turned to anger.

***

                Stiles felt well enough to receive visitors the next day. The doctors and nurses still referred to him as “Mr. Hale” with no explanation. He woke up early and quickly ate his breakfast and told the nurse that he was ready for guests whenever they arrived. There was a knock on the door.

                “Come in,” Stiles said eagerly.

                “Hey,” said the man who entered. Stiles felt his heart race unlike he had ever felt before. “How are you feeling?”

                “Derek,” Stiles grinned. “Babe, I’m so glad you’re here.”

                Stiles paused. The words flowed from his mouth like they were the most natural thing in the world. He suddenly felt in a daze, as though his life was now a POV movie that he had no control over. The next few minutes were filled with tongues, lips and wandering hands. Derek broke the whirlwind of physical attention and Stiles stared back in shock that he did.

                “I guess you’re feeling better,” Derek said, planting a kiss on the bed-ridden man’s forehead.

                The scene continued with Stiles speaking and motioning through no will of his own. It was like he was a visitor in his own mind and his body had taken on a life of his own. It was intriguing in a way because Stiles was so happy with the way things were going, but also scary as he had no control of his own actions. Stiles took the time not controlling his body to take in the sight of Derek in his hospital room.

                Derek was dressed in his usual denim jeans, plain t-shirt and his leather jacket. He was also wearing a pair of reading glasses that he never wore. As Stiles remembered Derek, he flashed through all the forms his clothes had taken. They had been ripped, tatter, torn, and blood-stained, but now his clothes looked brand new and proper.

                Stiles fought as hard as he could to control himself, but his mind began to fog and he could no longer hear Derek’s voice coming from the man before him, but instead it sounded like it was coming from far off, from somewhere else.

***

                “Stiles,” Derek sighed. He began to choke on his words. Tears formed in his eyes and began to fall. “I’m so sorry. I should have never come to New York. I just wanted you to know that I love you—I will always love you. I should have known better than to try and chase you. You seem happy here and seem to be doing really well.”

                There was nothing he could do to stop himself from crying.

                “I’m such a fool,” Derek sobbed. “I came here thinking that all you needed was a change of scenery and lack of monsters. But what I failed to realize is that I am one of those monsters. With you , I got to forget about all the supernatural and focus on you. I know coming here was a mistake, but now you’re here because of me with no way of knowing what’s going on and I have no clue when you’ll wake up.

                “I called your dad,” Derek sniffed, wiping tears from his face. “He will be here in a few hours. I’m going to pick him up and bring him here and then I’ll see to it that he gets the keys to your apartment. After he arrives, I’ll be leaving. I want to stay, but you don’t want me to be here and if bad things are going to happen to you, I can’t stay.”

                Derek picked up his love’s hand, held it for a few moments and kissed it one last time.

                “Stiles, I will always love you.”

                Derek left the room and allowed Wyatt to go inside. He exited the hospital and got into his car. Traffic was low at this time and he quickly made his way to the airport. John’s flight wouldn’t be in for another couple of hours, so Derek sat in the car waiting.

                As he waited, he thought about his flight arrangements and began to make them over the phone. His mind raced with thoughts of Beacon Hills and then of Stiles in his hospital bed. Derek grit his teeth at the thought of leaving Stiles and going home, however, he knew it was for the best.

***

                Stiles’ fog disappeared and he snapped back to the glasses-wearing Derek sitting next to his bed. He heard a heartwarming speech from someone that sounded like Derek, but Derek was sitting in front of him.

                _Must be an after effect from hitting my head._ Stiles thought.

                Stiles sat and listened to Derek talk for what felt like an hour. He looked up at the clock and it had been more than that. The duration of the visit included kissing, more kissing, lots of wandering hands and talk of Beacon Hills.

                “You’re dad wants us home for Halloween,” Derek said. “He mentioned something about how a werewolf son-in-law was going to be the best part of the Haunted Sheriff’s Station.”

                _Son-in-law?_ The words echoed though his mind. _What is going on?_

                “Are you okay?” Derek asked. “You seem a little out of it.”

                Stiles assured his supposed husband that everything was fine and that he was just tired. The two shared some more laughs and a few more kisses before Stiles started to ask some questions of his own.

                “So,” Stiles sighed. “We’re married?”

                All the air flew out of his lungs as Derek’s face dropped. Silence filled the void. Derek tried to answer, but all he could do was fiddle with the ring on his left hand. Stiles looked down and inspected his own hand. There it was. A titanium band with a steel blue line wrapped around. He sat playing with it. He looked up at Derek, who was staring at his own ring.

                Derek took a deep sigh before he said, “Yeah, we are.”

                Stiles’ heart broke. He couldn’t even remember his own husband being more than just a boyfriend.

                “I’m sorry.”

                “Don’t be,” Derek said sullenly. “The doctor said you might have some—some memory loss.”

                “Derek,” Stiles wiped a tear from his eye. “I know you, I know that I love you, I know how we met, how we first got together, your birthday, middle name and favorite color. There’s not one thing I can’t tell you about you. I can even tell you when I left Beacon Hills, but I’m sorry, I can’t remember anything after that.”

                Derek smiled and got up from his seat and moved towards the bed. He took Stiles’ hand and looked into his eyes.

                “So you don’t remember anything after we left California?”

                “Uhm,” Stiles thought. The use of the word “we” was confusing as it was just him that left. “Yeah, and I’m all sorts of confused on how that even happened.”

                “Well,” Derek began. “After the nogitsune incident, I got concerned and I floated the idea of moving. Beacon Hills just wasn’t a place I wanted you to be and with everything regarding the Nemeton, I felt it was best for us to go. Scott is the Alpha now and he has his own little pack forming. Lydia, Malia and Kira are all fully capable of helping take care of Beacon Hills. And after we left, Scott went and made a real Beta and things started to flourish. Granted, there was the whole hit list issue.”

                “Wait,” Stiles interrupted. “Hit list?”

                “The Dead Pool,” Derek explained. “It was a supernatural hit list that had everyone’s names on it. There was a huge battle between hunters and supernatural beasts. We had a few attempts on our lives up here, but everything ended well for us. Not so much for them. After the Dead Pool, we had a moment of peace and we decided that we would take advantage and I asked you to marry me.”

                Stiles’ eyes began to water as he smiled. Derek detailed the proposal and the ceremony. Lydia took over as the wedding planner and decided that a wedding in the woods would be wonderful. The ceremony went off without a hitch and only those they considered family were invited. Stiles decided that it would be better to write their own vows and that mildly terrified Derek. He wasn’t a man of so many words, but he had to find them.

                “I had nothing planned and Lydia almost ripped my head off,” Derek admitted. “But seeing you standing there, I was overcome with emotion and the words kind of just fell into place.”

                He then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Stiles.

                “We had the wedding recorded and we copied down each other’s vows so we would always be able to remember what we were promised and to be able to live up to and earn those promises.”

                Stiles read and reread his vows to Derek and tears began to fall. He loved this man more than life itself, but all he could remember since leaving Beacon Hills was leaving Derek behind. Was it all a dream? Was it just a side effect of the amnesia? He couldn’t be sure. Not too long ago, back when the only future he saw was in Beacon Hills, Derek was the only thing he ever wanted and the only thing he would ever need. Derek made him feel whole; made him feel safe. As things were now, he couldn’t help but wonder where things had fallen apart.

                _What changed?_


	9. One Last Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the time in between posting. Moving to a new place and work haven't left much time to write. Hope you all enjoy the next chapter! More to come very soon.

     “Medically speaking,” the doctor began. “He's in good health. There is no sign of anything that would cause him to still be comatose.”  
     Mr. Stilinski just stared at the doctor. He had arrived a week ago and had stayed by his son’s bed as much as he could. Derek had visited a couple times, but sat in silence with the man as they fruitlessly waited for Stiles to wake up. Wyatt hadn't come around in that week.  
     Stiles’ friends visited almost every day around lunch, allowing the sheriff to finally meet the group that kept his son out of trouble.  
     “So what does that mean?”  
     The doctor looked at his clipboard and sighed. “It means there's no medical reason for him to be in a coma. It's all up to him to wake himself up.”  
     Mr. Stilinski rolled his eyes and walked away. He never really like doctors. Ever since his wife, Claudia, found herself in the hospital, he never liked them. He entered his son’s room and sat down in the chair next to his bed with a hefty thump and sighed.  
     Staring at his motionless son, he could feel his own heartbeat. The sounds of the heart monitor beat at steady pace. The open door lightly illuminated the dark room until a shadow darkened it once more. Mr. Stilinski turned.  
     “Derek,” he breathed. He began stuttering through his words.  
     “I know,” Derek gritted through his teeth. “I was in the waiting room until you and the doctor finished talking.”  
     Examining the man in the doorway, he noticed the back pack strung over Derek’s shoulder.  
     “You're leaving?”  
     Derek nodded.  
     “Are you sure you can't stay for a little while longer?”  
     Derek may have blamed himself for what happened, but that's not how Mr. Stilinski saw things. Derek had become like a second son to him. He knew Derek's love for Stiles knew no limits and that he would do anything to keep him safe.  
     Derek entered the room and took his place on the other side of the hospital bed. His shimmering green eyes examined the heart rate monitor and the boy in the bed. He felt a sharp pain in his chest.  
     “When the body feels trauma,” Derek explained. “It causes the body to experience a kind of sensory overload. It can't heal because it's too busy telling itself that it's in trouble to actually focus on the healing part.”  
     “Is that a medical diagnosis?” asked Mr. Stilinski.  
     “More of a supernatural observation.”  
     Derek took Stiles’ hand, gently caressing it in his own. Mr. Stilinski watched the man standing by the hospital bed stare at his son. He knew the two loved each other and that circumstances regarding the supernatural kept them apart. He noticed Derek had black smudges on his hands. Closer observations told him that those weren't smudges. Those were his veins.  
     The blackness disappeared in an instant. Derek sighed.  
     “He's not in any pain,” Derek said softly, eyeing the heart rate monitor. Derek counted the beeps as it went.  
     Mr. Stilinski wanted to inquire if Derek spent his visits siphoning off any pain Stiles may have been feeling, but thought better of it. Derek made his way around the bed and walked towards the door.  
     “When he wakes up--”  
     “I know,” Mr. Stilinski interrupted. He didn't need to hear the rest of that sentence.  
The two nodded goodbye and Mr. Stilinski told Derek to keep an eye on Beacon Hills for him in his absence. Derek shifted his back pack and left the room. He slowly walked towards the elevator, hoping that Stiles would wake up and he would hear his name being called. That moment never came. The sound of Stiles’ heartbeat echoed through his ears as the elevator doors closed in front of him and started its descent to the lobby.

***

     The starless sky was glowing from the lights of the city, crowds of people pushed through each other trying to reach their destinations but he just slowly meandered along with the flow of the foot traffic. Person after person met his vision and not one of them met his gaze. His small form was just the right size to help him move through the crowd.  
     A flood of tranquility washed over him, enveloping him in a sense of peace unlike anything he had felt before. He looked down at his right hand, the source of the sensation. Shaking his hand didn't remove the feeling that someone was gripping his hand. He ran the fingers of his left hand through his short brown hair and sighed.  
Moving to his right, he entered the building that was in front of him. The door bell jingled as he entered the shop.  
     “Stilinski,” the man behind the counter called. “You're late!”  
     “I’m sorry,” Stiles replied.  
     “You're hardly ever late,” the man said. “Everything okay?”  
     Stiles wanted to reply, but his mind began to fog and his mouth was stuck shut. The doorbell jingled once again. Stiles turned to the door. A man with black hair and eyes of the brightest green Stiles had ever seen stood in front of him in dark jeans and a leather jacket.  
     “Derek,” he sighed, but Derek kept quiet.  
The two ex-boyfriends stared at each other for moments that turned into minutes in silence only to be broken by the loud thudding of the door closing at the back of the shop.  
     “Get out,” the man said as he walked from the back of the shop to the front.  
     “Wyatt,” Stiles pleaded. “Don't.”  
     Wyatt and Derek glared at each other. Wyatt repeated himself and Derek stood on his spot, frozen like a statue save for the breaking in blinking, a scowl spread across his face.  
Derek ducked as Wyatt took the first swing. Stiles backed away in panic. He tried to yell for them to stop but his voice disappeared.  
Stiles ran. Tearing off for the back door, he heard Derek call for him.  
     “Stiles, stop!”  
     It was too late. The heavy door was open and Stiles was fleeing the scene. His footing was solid until a small patch of water met his path. He slid forward, trying to correct his footing but fell backward and everything became white.


	10. One Last Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! More is coming, I promise. This work will be completed. Just had a LOT of hiccups with how this story plays out and where I want it to go without it being forced.

     Stiles’ eyes snapped open and sat up in bed like lightning.  
     “Stiles!”  
     “Derek?”  
     “No, son.”  
     Stiles tried to blink the colors from his eyes. The room was slowly swirling into focus.  
     “Where is Derek?”  
     “He left a few minutes ago,” his dad replied. “Why?”  
      Stiles got up from bed and looked out the window. There he was. Tall, dark and handsome, standing outside the hospital doors. Stiles scanned the dark room and found his clothes, stumbled as he put them on as his dad begged for an answer as to what he was doing. Stiles pulled the pads from his chest and yanked his shirt down over his stomach, flat-lining the heart monitor.  
     “Shit,” said Mr. Stilinski. “Wait here.”  
      Stiles watched as his dad bolted from the room and heard his dad say that everything was fine and that he was awake. Nurse chatter filled the hallway as Stiles fumbled to get his shoes tied. His legs felt stiff as he ran from the room.  
     “Stiles!”  
     He didn't look back and he didn't stop. He made it to the elevator and pushed the lobby button.  
     “See?” Mr. Stilinski forced a chuckled. “Awake.”  
     Stiles kept muttering to himself as the elevator descended the three floors to the lobby.  
     “C’mon,” he repeated for the fifth time. “Gotta hurry.”  
     The elevator bell sounded and he shoved his fingers in the door, urging it to open. He prayed that Derek would still be waiting outside or be relatively close. The automatic glass doors didn't register as Stiles ran to leave the hospital. He collided face first with the door, leaving a face smudge where he made contact. The nurses giggled to themselves from behind the desk.  
     The sound was enough to grab everyone in the vicinities attention, including Derek's. He spun around and his mouth fell open.  
     “Stiles?” Derek tried to ask how this was possible and what happened and a dozen more questions, but was cut off as Stiles ran right into Derek, smashing his lips to the werewolf’s. They stood locked together, Stiles pulling Derek closer. The larger of the two began to relax and took in the moment before pulling away.   
     “Stiles, I-I--,” Derek fumbled over his words. He was overjoyed that Stiles woke up, that he was here kissing him, but one question fell through his daze. “What happened?”  
     “Derek,” Stiles sighed and shook his head. “Whatever happened, all I want you to know is that I do love you. And nothing will ever change that.”  
     Derek found it hard to breathe.   
     “I was in there and I was trapped in my own head,” Stiles continued. “And while I was trapped there, all I could do was dream of you. I could hear you, the real you. It was weird. I can't really explain it with, like, words, but it was kind of confusing. You were there and I was there and we were talking and we said things and I knew I loved you…”  
     Stiles rambled on and Derek’s typical ability of keeping up with his rambles faded a bit and he was now listening to just sound coming from Stiles. The hand motions didn't help much to bring his attention to the words the man was saying.   
     “I still love you,” fell out of Stiles once more and snapped Derek back to attention. “I didn't handle you coming to New York very well, and I'm sorry. There's a lot of things I didn't handle well. But that's beside the point. My point is, I love you. I will always love you, but circumstances that are beyond our control, things that can never change, have separated us. But here you are, trying to make things better. I need you to know that things won't get better.”  
     Tears began to fall from those brown eyes of his and Derek took in a sharp breathe.  
     “I know that we can't be together,” Stiles began to sob. “And I can't help but wonder what could have been. It's why I dreamed it. You're leaving and I know that you know it's for the best. But I don't want you to just go, not without me telling you goodbye. I wouldn't be able to stand it if you just left without a proper goodbye.”  
     Stiles rushed at the man again. Their lips met once again. Derek dropped his bag to the ground and held his partner as they kissed deeply. A moan escaped Stiles’ mouth as one hand slid down Derek's down back and the other pulled him closer. Derek's hands also began to wander until a car horn honked.  
     “Derek Hale?”  
     Derek and Stiles looked towards the man calling at the werewolf.   
     “What time is your flight?”  
     “Get in the car,” Derek replied.


End file.
